


Of Monsters And Men

by for_the_love_of_wolves



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Captivity, Child Allison Argent, Dehumanization, Feral Behavior, Flashbacks, Full Shift Werewolves, Guilt, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Loss of Parent(s), M/M, Memories, Post-Hale Fire (Teen Wolf), Sexual Content, Torture, Trauma, Wolf Peter Hale, Young Chris Argent, Young Peter Hale, eventually, this is going to be dark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-15 06:15:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28558953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/for_the_love_of_wolves/pseuds/for_the_love_of_wolves
Summary: Kate didn't burn all the Hales. She kept a "souvenir" no one knows about.Two years after the Hale fire, Chris intends to bring his five-year old daughter Allison to her aunt Kate. They have just lost Victoria and the trip is supposed to be a distraction as well as a chance to process the loss. But everything changes, when Allison discovers Kate's secret in her basement.
Relationships: Allison Argent & Chris Argent, Allison Argent & Peter Hale, Chris Argent/Peter Hale
Comments: 10
Kudos: 81





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Tw: Kate kills a shifter in animal form (fox) in this chapter. It is not exactly graphic, but it's there! And she enjoys it.

Chris drives to Kate’s house on a gloomy autumn afternoon. He feels a strange nervous excitement. He hasn’t seen his sister in years. He didn’t even know she moved so far into the countryside. It is a long drive, leading him along fields and through forests, mountains floating past, their tips covered in snow. 

Chris absently listens to the radio playing some popular country song, drumming a restless rhythm on the steering wheel. Ally is sleeping in the backseat, her face resting against the cool windowpane and her mouth slightly open. She is pressing her plush giraffe Lexi to her chest. Every time Chris glances into the rearview mirror, his throat clenches at the sight. She is so small … Only five years old. 

His daughter is five years old and she has just lost her mother. 

It was a Wendigo. Chris still can’t quite process it. He has always thought, it would happen … differently. He guesses he just could never imagine Victoria going down. She was such a strong, sharp and self-conscious woman, it was hard to picture her bloodied and pale, barely holding on to life. 

But that’s exactly what happened. And it happened fast.

Chris spent the whole night at her side, holding her hand. What they had … It’s never been love. Not really. Their marriage was plotted by other forces. It was a convenient arrangement for two big hunter families. But over the years, and with Ally’s birth, Chris and Vic had developed a bond. It was not love. But it was still something strong and Chris feels like he is missing a piece of a puzzle now. He is never going to get it back. There are few hunters who grow old. But somehow Chris had always thought, Vic would outlive him.

Ally doesn’t know how it happened. Chris and Vic turned their backs on Gerard and his plans for their little daughter long ago. They didn’t want her to grow up with monsters and weapons and violence. And even now, Chris couldn’t get himself to tell Allison the truth. 

Instead, he is driving his daughter to his sister, intending to spend a few days on his own. To maybe go on a hunting trip in the forest or something. He tells himself he also needs the time to arrange Vic’s burial and other things, but somewhere inside, he knows it’s more of an escape. He just can’t look into his daughter’s wide open, sad and scared eyes. He can’t deal with all of this alone. He just can't.

Kate was … more understanding and careful than usual on the phone, when Chris told her. 

Even though their relationship hasn’t been the best ever since Chris and Vic turned their backs on the rest of the family. Kate hasn’t reacted well. But they are siblings and Chris is sure, Kate remembers too. Remembers how they used to play in the snow, laughing and ducking while throwing snowballs at each other. And of course, Kate loves her niece. 

Kate’s house stands on a clearing, surrounded by fir trees. There is a lake in the distance, the water sparkling. Kate approaches when Chris stops the car in front of the house, a smile on her face. She is wearing a loose red and white plaid shirt. Her blond hair is longer than Chris has ever seen it. But overall, she looks the same. And something in his chest aches. 

“Chris! It’s been too long,” she says when he exits the car, hugging him. He hugs her back without a word. 

Kate chuckles when she discovers Ally in the car. “There is my favourite niece, sleeping like a little angel.” 

Chris nods. “She has troubles sleeping through the night right now, so I am glad she is finally able to catch a few hours of good sleep,” he says quietly. 

Kate hums. She eyes Chris up and down with a critical frown. “You look tired, too. Stay and rest for a while, Chris.” 

He hesitates. “I don’t know …”

Kate wraps an arm around him and smiles. “Come on. Stay. I made lasagna. I know you can’t resist a good lasagna.” 

Chris can’t help but laugh at that. “You know me too well.” 

He already knows he is going to stay for a while too. He feels so much more relaxed than in Beacon Hills. The air here is fresh and clean. Kate is … She is so warm and welcoming. Chris didn’t expect it. It's not really like her. But he decides to cherish it for now. He has enough problems to worry about. 

Chris carefully opens the car door and scoops Ally up, following Kate to the house. 

* * *

Chris wakes up from a nap, his stomach still well filled with lasagna. He yawns and turns on his side on the couch, rubbing his face. 

He has a short scare when he notices Ally isn’t there anymore. She has been sleeping curled up beside him. Only her plush giraffe is still there. 

But Chris calms down fast. His daughter is probably with Kate. Not in danger. Just with her aunt.

After another yawn, Chris slowly sits up and looks around. There is nothing in the house that reveals Kate’s profession. And he is glad about that. 

When Chris gets up, he throws a glance out of the window, and sees that Kate is cutting some wood. Allison isn’t to be seen. 

Chris frowns. “Ally?” he calls and receives no answer. Alarm stirs in him and his hand wanders to his hip instinctively, reaching for a weapon that’s not there. Not today. Not here.

Chris sighs and tells himself to get a grip. They are in his sister’s house. There is no need to be worried. Or paranoid …

Scratching the back of his head, he walks out of the living room and towards the bathroom. That’s when he hears Ally’s bright laugh. It sounds muffled. Chris freezes and turns into the direction of the noise, seeing an open door under the staircase. A door to the basement? 

Chris swallows. Kate might have her hunter equipment down there … Crap. 

He hurries to walk down the stairs, calling Allison’s name another time. This time, she calls back, “Daddy! Look!” 

His daughter sounds … excited. 

Chris frowns and walks around a corner, catching a glimpse of some guns and knives, just like he expected. Then, he sees his daughter. She is crouching in front of a cage.

The fact that Kate has a cage in her basement isn’t a surprise. Chris has a cage too. Just to be prepared. 

The difference is that Kate’s cage isn’t empty. 

Chris’ steps falter when he looks right into a pair of yellow eyes that flash neon blue briefly. They belong to a huge wolf. 

Ally is sitting close to the bars - too close for Chris’ comfort - and is talking to the wolf now, her voice quiet and even. The wolf has his head on his paws, but his ears are perked up and pointed into the little girl’s direction. The animal seems to be listening …

When Chris approaches however, the wolf stirs and growls quietly. 

Ally shushes him and throws an offended glance into Chris’ direction, putting a finger on her lips. “Quiet, Daddy! You are scaring him.” 

“You shouldn’t be down here,” Chris says, his voice tense. Just like his body. He reaches for his non existent weapon again. Can’t help it. And without really thinking, he grabs one of the guns laying on a metal table.

Ally looks embarrassed and guilty for one small moment, but then her eyes turn back to the wolf and brighten up again. “Look, Daddy! It’s a wolf. A real wolf!” she whispers, clearly bubbling with excitement but forcing herself to stay calm.

“I can see that,” Chris says carefully. Inwardly, he curses Kate for not locking the door to her damn basement. What the hell is she doing with a fully shifted wolf?! 

Chris eyes the animal closer and frowns. He can’t help the feeling of uneasiness that spreads inside him when he sees that the wolf is emaciated to the point that Chris can count his ribs. The fur is patchy. There is a collar around the wolf’s throat that sits way too tight and is connected to a heavy chain that leads to a ring in the wall. The way the wolf is curled up speaks of pain and fear, not aggression. In fact, the animal looks downright defeated. And weak. 

Chris’ stomach clenches. Involuntarily, he remembers …

_“Kate, what the hell?!” Chris asks, staring at the fox that is dangling from a tree, hissing and snarling desperately. “I told you not to use these traps here, everything and everyone could walk into them!”_

_Kate rolls her eyes. “Relax, Chris. It worked, didn’t it? I caught a shifter. Look.” She pokes the fox with the tip of her knife and it shrieks, eyes glowing green. Kate laughs._

_Chris frowns at the glee he sees in her eyes. “Kate … You don’t know if this shifter did anything wrong,” he says slowly. “You can’t just catch and torture every supernatural being, it’s wrong …”_

_Kate huffs and glares at him. “Wrong?! Do you even hear yourself talking, Chris? They are abominations. They are the definition of wrong! With every death shifter, we come closer to balance in the world.”_

_“That’s not what’s balance about, Kate,” Chris grits out. He feels more sick with every passing moment, especially because the werefox is looking between them, eyes still glowing. “They are part of this world, just like we are. They wouldn’t exist if they shouldn’t be here! Think of the Nemeton, of magic and …”_

_“I don’t care about that old bullshit,” Kate snarls. “If a cow gets a baby with two heads, we don’t call that normal! We call it abomination and kill it, to show mercy.” And in front of Chris’ shocked eyes, she uses her knife to slit the animal's throat. It makes a weak gargling noise, then changes back to human, falling from the tree into the leaves. A naked woman, pale and lifeless. Chris stares at her, breathless._

_Kate wipes her knife at her pants. “One less monster,” she says, walking away. “So many more to go.”_

_“We have a code!” Chris calls after her, his heart feeling heavy in his chest. “We have a code, Kate!”_

_His sister just scoffs._

The memory burns.

Chris looks at the wolf and doesn’t know what to feel. Or think. 

His sister … He thought she changed. But apparently she didn’t. Not at all. 

There is still that spark of hate burning inside her, burning away everything else. And he knows the source of that hate all too well … It was stupid to think he could bring his daughter here for a few days and she won't be faced with Kate's twisted reality ... Stupid. He let himself be fooled.

“Ally,” Chris says, trying to sound as calm as possible with the rush of rage that tries to overwhelm him. “Please go upstairs and tell aunt Kate to come down here, alright?” 

Allison looks up at him and pouts. “But I want to stay with the wolf! Why is he in a cage? Do you think he’s sick?” 

Chris bites his lip. “Ally. Do as I say. Now. And don’t come back down here. I have to talk to your aunt. Alone.” 

Allison huffs. “Fine.” She looks at the wolf, affection softening her features. “I’ll be back, wolfie!” She gets up and runs upstairs. 

Chris looks after her, then he turns back to the wolf. 

He crouches down to be at eye level with the shifter. “You do look pretty messed up,” he says quietly. Definitely not dangerous, at least. But Chris knows better than to underestimate a werewolf.

The wolf’s ears twitch. The animal stirs. Chris frowns when the wolf tries to push his muzzle through the bars and sniffs, his tongue coming out to lap at his nose. The wolf whines, then tries to get up, raising his head and sniffing again. The chain clinks. 

Chris stares, confused about all the sudden movement. The wolf’s eyes start to glow again. Neon blue … It stirs other memories Chris rather doesn’t want to touch. He sighs and starts to get up, when his eyes fall on a white spot in all the patchy grey of the wolf’s fur. A white spot, shaped like a crescent moon … 

Chris’ breath hitches. He stares at that spot, and -

The world stops. 

Everything just … stops. 

Chris stares, his insides turning to ice-water. That crescent mark … He’s seen it before. Oh God. 

_No._

There is no way, he tells himself. It can’t be … 

But in the end, he still has to try. 

“Peter?” Chris breathes, his voice almost breaking. “Is that you?” 

The wolf winces. He stops to sniff and move around. He stares at Chris and his eyes glow again for a short moment. 

That’s all the answer Chris needs. 

“Oh God,” he whispers, his legs buckling underneath him. He has to support himself against the cage to not fall. “Oh God … How …” 

_How is that possible!?_

Kate’s voice cuts through the basement like a knife. “Oh. You weren’t supposed to see this yet,” she says, approaching with a smirk. “But well. I guess now is as good as later. Well, what do you think? He’s my little souvenir from the Hale fire. It was quite entertaining to watch him despair, well, until he refused to play along, of course. First, I wanted to try to train him, you know? Wanted to see if there is a way to make these mutts at least a little bit useful, like a hunting dog or something. But this sweetie is so damn stubborn. No matter what happened, he refused to kneel for me.” She sneers at the wolf who started growling as soon as Kate appeared, slowly moving back from the bars, his steps slow and trembling. 

Kate just chuckles and kicks the cage. “I fear I broke him. Since he refuses to shift back to his human form. Well, I guess this is better anyway. Ever since the fire, he doesn’t look so handsome anymore, isn’t that right, Peter?” She kicks the cage again and the wolf - _Peter_ … - growls louder, pressing his back against the bars behind him. 

Kate laughs. “See? The great, dangerous wolf, just a kicked, little puppy now. Father would be proud at -” 

Chris moves without thinking. He grips Kate by the collar of her shirt and presses her against the rough wall, ignoring her surprised gasp. “You …” he can’t even form a coherent sentence. The thoughts and emotions are racing in his head. His grip tightens. 

“What are you doing, Chris?” Kate calls out, sounding a bit breathless. 

And that question is what makes all the words return. “Don’t you dare ask me what I am doing! Are you out of your mind?! What the hell are _you_ doing?” he barks into Kate’s face. “You can’t just take a living being and put it into a cage for years!” 

God. Years … It’s been years. Two, since the Hale fire. The fire … Chris thought Peter died in it too. He went there to stare at the black carcass of a house, went there to mourn. He thought rogue hunters did it. And all the time … it actually has been his own sister. 

“You … You set the fire,” he says, stunned. A shiver runs over his back. “How could you?! There were children in that house, Kate. Innocent children. And humans. And God … how could you do this?!” 

Kate glares up at him. “Are you done? God, Chris. You sound like an endless loop. How often do I have to explain to you that these are just abominations?! And everyone who is on their side, is an abomination too. I did what I was born for. What I was trained for!” 

Chris shakes his head. There is so much anger, disgust, sadness and disbelief in him now … He is drowning in it. “You are sick,” he breathes. “You are as sick as _him_ , if not worse. I can’t believe you are my sister. The same girl I looked after so many years ago … You are blind with hatred. Father fed you his poison and you swallowed everything.” He looks over to the wolf, who watches everything with wide eyes, pressed against the back of the cage, his emaciated body shaking visibly. “ _You_ are the abomination,” Chris whispers, looking back into Kate’s eyes, that fill with rage now too. 

Kate opens her mouth to say something, but before she can, Chris presses the muzzle of the gun he took from the wall into the soft flesh of her throat, right under her chin. For a moment, Kate looks scared. “Are you really going to kill me, Chris?” she hisses and the rage returns. "Your own sister? Your family?"

“No,” Chris breathes. “No. I can’t. But from now on, you can’t count on me. I am not going to help you. Never again.” He glances at Peter and swallows. “And I’m taking him with me.” 

Kate looks surprised, but then, she sneers. “So it’s true. What father had suspected … You had feelings for that thing,” she hisses. “You could have just told me that you actually wanted to be like him, like them. I would have found you a rogue Alpha to bite you …” 

Chris shakes his head and turns away from Kate, letting her go. He feels heavy with sadness ... Vaguely he wonders, if Kate wanted him to see this. If she left the door open on purpose. If she had been imagining this scenario all this time and laughed to herself ...

“You are sick, Kate. You have no idea what happened back then. I am going to take Ally, and the - and Peter, and we are going to leave. You will never see me or Allison ever again.” 

“Fine. Take that useless piece of shit,” Kate says, shrugging. “I’m tired of seeing the mutt anyway. Probably would have gotten rid of it soon. And I feel sorry for your daughter. There will be a time she learns about her heritage and her fate. She will turn away from you ...” 

“We’ll see,” Chris says coldly. 

Kate stares at him for a moment longer, eyes cold and calculating. Then, she smirks and walks away. “Goodbye, Chris. Have fun with your broken pet.” 

A quiet moment passes, then Chris is alone with the shivering wolf. 

He exhales shakily and sits in front of the cage, feeling incredibly tired. Disgusted, he throws the gun away. It makes a clinking noise where it lands on the floor and the wolf - Peter, he finally has to think of the wolf as Peter again … - flinches. 

Chris watches, his throat tight, as the wolf slumps, putting his head on his paws again and closing his eyes. He has the sudden but violent urge to touch Peter. To comfort him and tell him it will be alright. Like he did back then …

Instead, he remains sitting in front of the cage, staring at the wolf he has mentally buried so many years ago. A voice inside his mind tells him he is about to try to do the impossible. That he is going to ruin more than he could ever repair. But … 

“I have to try,” Chris breathes and watches as Peter’s ears twitch, turning towards his voice. “I have to try …”

_I owe it to you._


	2. Chapter 2

Chris has no idea what he is supposed to do. He is sitting there on the cold basement floor, staring at the wolf in the cage, his mind blank. 

Peter’s eyes are closed, but his ears are pointed towards Chris. Every breath the wolf takes, shakes his thin body. He looks so weak, something inside Chris is surprised he is still alive. But then … Peter has always been a fighter. A survivor. 

Chris sighs and rubs his face, clearing his throat and trying to find coherent words. “I don’t know if you can hear me, Peter, but I hope you can. I am so sorry. I thought … I didn’t know you survived the fire. I didn’t know it was Kate. I … God, if I could, I would turn back time. Your family … They didn’t deserve to die like that. You didn’t deserve this. I am so fucking sorry.” 

Peter doesn’t open his eyes. He doesn’t react at all. 

“I can’t change what happened,” Chris says quietly. “All I can do, is to get you out of here.” 

And after? Chris has no idea. He doesn’t even know how feral Peter actually is. He doesn’t know if there is anything left of the human inside the wolf. Peter told him about wolves who lost one part of themselves. Wolves who didn’t shift back. They stayed in wolf form and the human slowly faded, until all that was left was the wolf and their instincts. 

Chris gets up and reluctantly reaches for the gun he threw away. He has a little daughter who has just lost her mother. He can’t risk getting a wolf’s fangs into his throat. Not that he really expects Peter to have the energy to attack him like that, but … Still. He is not one to underestimate a wolf. 

Chris finds a bolt cutter on one of the steel tables in the basement. He takes it, hoping it will be enough to get through the lock of the cage and the chain. He approaches the cage and swallows. 

“Okay. Peter … I need to come in,” he says, taking a deep breath, before using the bolt cutter to destroy the lock. That produces some loud crunching noises and the wolf flinches with every single one, his eyes now open and directed at Chris. 

When Chris opens the door of the cage, it creaks. Peter raises his head from his paws and moves backwards slowly, his body in a crouch and his tail between his legs.

“I won’t hurt you,” Chris promises, slowly sliding into the cage, ducking his head so he won’t hit it. “I am getting you out. Trust me, Peter.” 

_To trust me is actually too much to ask_ , Chris thinks bitterly. _He trusted me years ago, but that was before I abandoned him. It was before he lost his family and was put into a cage, abused and belittled by my sister._

He moves into Peter’s direction and the wolf bares his fangs, a low growl vibrating in the basement. The fur at his neck is bristled and his claws are out. But he doesn't attack. No matter how close Chris comes, he doesn’t attack. 

And Chris knows wolves. He has studied them, has learned things about them no other hunter knows - thanks to Peter. He knows what an aggressive wolf looks like. This is not aggression. It’s fear. 

“It’s okay,” Chris tells Peter, now so close he could touch the wolf. “It’s going to be alright.” He reaches out without touching the wolf, just showing he won’t be a threat and letting Peter take in his scent. 

The wolf stares at him, starting to breathe faster and heavier. A few heartbeats pass. Then, Peter whines and slumps, putting his head back on his paws and closing his eyes. It is a clear gesture of defeat. Of resignation. 

He winces when Chris puts his hand on his neck, but doesn’t growl. He just whines again. 

Chris swallows around the lump in his throat. “It is going to be alright,” he repeats, running his fingers through the patchy fur. He can feel the outlines of bones. It makes him feel sick. He wants Peter out of this damn cage. 

Chris uses the bolt cutter to break the chain. Thankfully, it doesn’t resist much. The wolf is free now. Well, there is still the disgusting leather collar around his neck, but that will have to wait until they get to Deaton. It sits way too tight to be removed right now. 

Chris carefully climbs out of the cage and waits in front of it. “Peter,” he says, “Come out.” 

The wolf whines again and opens his eyes, looking at Chris, but he doesn’t move. 

“Come on. You can do it. Get out of there,” Chris encourages. He crouches and reaches out his hand, with his palm up. 

The wolf finally raises his head and moves it from side to side for a moment, maybe just now realizing the chain is gone. He stares at Chris’ hand, nervously licking his flews, and then, he gets up slowly, legs trembling and body swaying. The wolf waits to stabilize himself, then walks forward, stretching his neck until his nose brushes Chris’ fingers. “That’s it,” Chris says, smiling weakly. “You’re almost there.” 

Peter huffs and puts one paw in front of the other, until he’s out of the cage. Chris almost thinks Peter is going to be able to follow him out of the basement, but the wolf collapses as soon as he’s touching the tiles, making a whining noise and glancing up at Chris. 

Chris doesn’t hesitate to scoop the wolf up. It is scary how easy that is. An adult wolf should be way heavier. 

Without a moment of hesitance, Chris turns around and leaves the basement with Peter in his arms, not looking back. 

* * *

Allison is sitting on the couch, fidgeting with her plush giraffe. Kate is nowhere to be seen. 

When Chris approaches with Peter, Ally’s eyes go wide and her jaw drops open. “What are you doing with the wolfie?” she gasps. 

“He will come with us,” Chris says. 

“Really?!” Ally calls out, disbelieving. 

“Yes. Come on, we are leaving,” Chris says curtly, glad he hasn’t even gotten any of his or Allison’s things out of the car. He wants to leave as fast as possible. 

“But … we have just arrived here and aunt Kate made lasagna,” Ally says, frowning. 

“Aunt Kate has something important to do and I have to get the wolf to Doctor Deaton,” Chris explains. 

“Oh,” Ally says, her mood brightening up at the mention of Alan Deaton. “Okay. I’m coming.” She jumps up and runs out of the house while Chris follows a bit slower, Peter breathing heavily in his arms. 

Chris walks right to the car, not even looking for Kate. He doesn’t want to see her. Ally is a bit disappointed that she can’t even say goodbye, but Chris can’t really care about that right now either. He puts Peter into the backseat, wrapping him into a blanket he had in his trunk. The wolf is shivering constantly and Chris hopes the blanket will both provide warmth and a calming scent. At least, it is not going to smell like Kate. 

He tells Ally to get on the passenger’s seat and straps her in, then gets into the car himself and starts it, turning away from his sister’s cabin fast. 

There is a long moment of silence, only broken by Peter’s heavy huffs. 

Allison turns her head to look at the wolf, then looks at her plush giraffe and back. She suddenly reaches out, holding the plush toy in front of Peter’s nose. “Here, you can have it,” she says brightly, “It makes me always feel better when I have Lexie.” 

Chris tenses a bit. He is about to tell Ally to pull her hand back, but she has already put the plush giraffe beside Peter’s head and touches the wolf’s snout briefly, her fingers tiny compared to Peter’s head. 

Chris tenses even more. He wants to get Allison away from the fangs. She is so small and delicate … 

But Peter just sniffs at the girl’s hand and rumbles, his tail wagging once, weakly. But it’s there. Allison smiles and pulls her hand away, turning around to look straight forward again, explaining she gets sick while turning around in the car. 

Chris is surprised about Peter’s reaction for a moment, but then he remembers how Peter’s serious expression turned soft and fond whenever the pups were close. The memory makes his stomach clench painfully. 

* * *

Chris hasn’t seen Alan Deaton in quite a while now. But the vet still looks the same, when he opens the door. 

“Christopher,” he says, sounding surprised. “How can I help you?” 

“Alan. I …,” Chris starts, only to be interrupted by his daughter. 

“We have a wolf now,” Ally bursts out, bouncing up and down in her excitement. “A real wolf. He is in the car. He might be sick. Can you take a look at him, Doctor Deaton?” 

Deaton raises his brows. “A wolf?” he glances at Chris. “Interesting.” 

Chris clears his throat. “Allison. How about you go to the rabbits while I have a word with Doctor Deaton?” 

Fortunately, like all little kids. Ally is easily distracted. “Fluffy rabbits!” she squeals and runs off. 

Deaton waits until she has turned around a corner, before he lowers his voice and asks, “Werewolf?”

Chris nods and sighs. “It’s Peter Hale.” 

Deaton’s expression changes from carefully passive to shocked and disbelieving in the matter of a second. “Are you sure?” he asks, frowning. 

“Yeah. 100 percent sure. He has the little mark on his right hip. The crescent mark,” Chris says tiredly, scratching his beard. “Kate … she is the one who set the fire, Alan. She had Peter all this time. Put him in a cage and treated him worse than a dog. For two years.” 

Deaton runs a hand over his face. “But … Derek said he didn’t feel Peter anymore. The bond … If Peter is still alive, why wasn’t Derek able to feel their bond?” 

Chris shakes his head. “I have no idea. And it is not like we can ask Peter. He’s … Kate said he shifted into wolf form long ago and never shifted back.” 

Deaton hums. “That’s not a surprise. The wolf took control to protect Peter from the traumatic experiences he went through.” 

Chris nods and sighs heavily. “I have just lost Vic and I’m alone with Ally now. The trip to Kate ... It was supposed to be some kind of distraction for her, and a chance for me to process everything. And now … Now I found out Peter is still alive and my sister is a … she is a monster.” 

Deaton lays a hand on Chris’ shoulder. “This is a lot. I see. But it is also a good thing, there is still a Hale on this land. You know it is.” 

“Yeah. Can you take a look at him?” 

“Of course.” 

* * *

When Chris opens the car door, the wolf winces and growls, but again, it is only a quiet and soft growl, that sounds defensive instead of aggressive. “It’s alright. It’s just Alan Deaton. You know Deaton. He’d like to take a look at you, okay? And get that collar off,” Chris mumbles while getting Peter out of the car and carrying him to the animal clinic. The wolf seems to relax a little when they enter, maybe, he recognizes the smell. 

Deaton looks a bit shook when he has Peter on his examination table. Chris reminds himself that the vet lost someone too in the fire. Talia, however, will never come back. Her remains had been identified. Deaton approaches carefully, but with firm steps, letting the wolf taking in his scent. Peter sniffs and then slumps, closing his eyes. 

Deaton looks the wolf over and then nods. “It definitely is Peter.” 

Chris sinks on a nearby chair, only now realizing how tired he actually is. He watches as Deaton fetches a syringe from somewhere, filled with a clear liquid. 

“It is a sedative,” the vet says, when his eyes meet Chris’. “I don’t want him to be awake when we get the collar off. It would be painful.” 

Chris nods. He trusts the vet and former emissary just like Peter has always trusted him. Deaton had patched up pups and had burned wolfsbane out of wounds. He had given advice and was always there to help. Now, he helps again. 

The sedative works fast. Once Deaton has administered it, it takes only a few moments until the wolf passes out. 

Deaton reaches for a sharp scalpel and goes to work. 

It takes some time to get the collar off. It is so tight, Deaton has to be careful to not cut into flesh. He still nips the wolf one or two times, wiping blood from his scalpel. He has difficulties to cut through the leather at several spots and when the wretched thing is finally coming off, and Deaton lifts it, Chris sees why. 

Wires. Wires, interlaced with the leather. It is not hard to figure out what their purpose was. The sight sends another rush of rage and hatred through Chris. All directed to his sister. 

“Maybe I should have killed her after all,” he grits out. “I definitely will report her actions to the matriarch. Everyone should know what she did. How she is violating the code. She needs to be punished for her crimes.” _And she can’t be given time to do even more damage._

Deaton nods. He inspects the wounds that were now revealed. The skin around the wolf’s throat is red and sore. It looks inflamed at several places.

“The Hales most likely weren’t Kate’s first victims,” Deaton says quietly, putting balm on the wounds. “Another pack was burned alive in the basement of their house too. I heard Alpha Satomi adopted two kids from that pack. Siblings. Apparently, your sister has a pattern. The first pack might have been a test.”

Chris hums. He feels so exhausted. He watches as Deaton wraps bandages around the wolf’s throat and then goes on to check his vitals. “How has he reacted to you?” he asks Chris. 

“Ally found him first. She talked to him and when I found them in the basement, Peter was listening to her, completely calm. When I approached, he growled but he quickly stopped that, apparently recognizing my scent. He got restless and I realized it’s him. Then, Kate appeared ... “ Chris shakes his head. “Peter hasn’t been aggressive towards me or Allison for one single moment. I didn’t expect him to trust me, after all this time and everything that happened, but he did …” 

“Of course he did,” Deaton says quietly, not looking away from the wolf. “You’re his mate.” 

Chris looks away, feeling like he has just been slapped in the face. “I rejected him,” he grits out. It still burns. He will never forgive for that moment of disbelief and hurt on Peter’s face, just before he was able to hide that behind a wall of indifference. 

Deaton shakes his head. “That doesn’t matter. Not for his wolf. Wolves mate for life.” 

Chris thinks this fact makes it even worse. “Honestly, I rather want him to be more difficult, than … this. This is not Peter. I have seen him in his wolf form more than one time. We spent a full moon night together. He was always full of life, restless and agitated. Wild. Now, he’s docile and passive. It’s not him.” 

“Trauma changes everyone,” Deaton says quietly. 

That’s true. Chris knows that too well. He looks down at his hands, littered with little scars. 

Eventually, Deaton puts his things away and Chris perks up. “How bad is it?” he asks. 

Deaton sighs. “Apart from the inflamed wounds all around his throat? Well, he is severely malnourished, dehydrated and weak. He needs to gain weight fast. And the bandages need a regular change.” 

“Do you think he is going to shift back?” 

“Maybe. I don’t know. I have heard from wolves who don’t. Talk to him. Give him some things back he was used to as a human. He might come back if he feels safe enough,” Deaton advises. 

Chris nods. “Thank you.” 

“Daddy?” Allison appears in the doorframe, chewing on two of her fingers. “Can we go home now? Want my bed.” She yawns heartily. 

“Sure, pumpkin. Why don’t you wait in the car? I’ll be there immediately,” Chris tells her. 

“Okay. The wolfie will come with us, right?” Allison asks, sounding a bit worried. “He will not stay here with the rabbits?” 

“No. He will come with us.” 

Ally brightens up at that. She disappears, humming under her breath. 

Chris turns back to Deaton and shakes his head. “I don’t even know where to put him …” The cage in the basement is not an option. He won’t do the same to Peter that Kate did to him. 

Deaton rummages in a drawer and shows Chris a plastic bag with black powder in it. “If you have an empty room, maybe you can use mountain ash to keep him there. Just for a while, until he gets settled.” 

Chris doesn’t like the thought of trapping Peter like this, but it’s better than a cage. He accepts the bag of mountain ash with a muttered thank you. 

“I will call Derek and tell him,” Deaton tells Chris. “I’m sure he will want to come back to see his uncle. And having family around, might help Peter to find back to himself.” 

Chris nods and carefully wraps the blanket around the wolf again. He is still passed out, which is probably for the better. Deaton puts a hand on his shoulder and smiles encouragingly. “Good luck, Christopher. I hope Peter will recover. This has always been Hale territory. It would be good for Beacon Hills, if the pack could recover one day. Good for the balance.” 

Chris knows exactly what Deaton is talking about. And he agrees. 

The Hales had been keeping the territory and the Nemeton safe. Talia made sure the packs were stable and worked together. Peter got rid of threats, that would have meant danger for both werewolves and humans. With the oldest and biggest pack gone, the remaining smaller packs close to Beacon Hills are too scared to do much, too scared they might suffer the same fate. 

Chris says goodbye to Deaton and returns to the car, laying Peter back on the backseat. Ally is almost asleep on the passenger’s seat, but she is immediately awake, when Chris slips into the car, starting it. He wants to get back home fast. Best before Peter wakes up. 

Allison turns around on her seat as far as she can and looks at the sleeping wolf, wide-eyed. “He has an owie,” she says seriously, her eyes glued to the bandage around Peter’s neck. “Doctor Deaton made it better, didn’t he?”

Chris nods. 

“Does he have a name?” his daughter asks, fumbling with the ears of her giraffe. 

“Peter.” 

Allison laughs. “As in Peter and the wolf!” 

Chris smiles weakly. Peter always hated that reference. “Yeah.” 

He glances at his daughter, who keeps her eyes on Peter. This is a distraction for her, he realizes. Of course, they will still have to talk about her mother. 

Chris is glad when they arrive home. It’s already dark and no one is on the street, when he hurries to get Peter out of the car and into the house. He can’t deal with a neighbour seeing him with an armful of passed out wolf right now. They know he’s some kind of hunter, but still. It would raise way too many eyebrows and questions. And fear of course. Sadly. 

Of course, Peter still has to leave the house sometime, for obvious reasons, but Chris will think about this later. One thing after the other. 

He tells Allison to get ready for bed and ignores her pout, carries Peter into the guestroom and lays him on the bed there, taking care the blanket is still wrapped around him. Then, he blocks the door and the window with mountain ash. He knows he will have to do that for the whole house and plans to finish this task, as soon as Ally is sleeping. Or tomorrow morning. 

When the mountain ash lines are complete, Chris takes a last look at Peter. The wolf is still out of it, his breaths even. Chris timidly lays his hand on the wolf’s head and scratches between his ears. He hopes Peter’s sleep is dreamless and restful. There will be a lot of stress in the immediate future, for all of them. 

Chris sighs and gets up, leaving the room and gently closing the door behind him. 

* * *

Allison is laying on her bed in her pyjamas when Chris enters her room, looking through a picture book, with her plush giraffe under her arm. 

Chris takes a moment to look at her. She’s so small. 

The world is big and scary and cruel. 

If Gerard had gotten his will, Ally would have already known about werewolves. A shiver runs over Chris when he imagines his own daughter, training with weapons and being woken up in the middle of the night, for unannounced fighting lessons that would teach her to be alert in any given moment. 

Chris mentally shakes his head. No. That was _his_ life. But it will never be Ally’s … Even after she learned the truth, Chris will make sure she won’t end up like Kate. 

Chris knows, he can’t tell his daughter everything about werewolves and the supernatural in general today. Not now. Not right after losing Vic and finding Peter like this. No. But he has to make sure she won’t sneak into Peter’s room because she wants to cuddle the wolf. Even though the wolf hasn’t shown the slightest sign of aggression, Chris doesn’t know what exactly Peter has been through. Doesn’t know how he would react to being woken up or touched without warning. 

So Chris sits on the edge of Allison’s bed and clears his throat. “Ally, I want you to listen closely.” 

Allison immediately notices his change to being serious. She looks up at him attentively, nodding. “Okay, Daddy.” 

“You have to understand something. Peter is not a dog. He is a wolf. That means, he will always be wild. He should be. That also means, I don’t want you to go into his room without my direct permission, do you understand that?” 

“Yes. I won’t go into his room unless you told me I can. Pinky promise.” 

“Good. It’s not because I think Peter wants to hurt you. It’s because he has been through a lot of bad stuff. Bad stuff sometimes causes people - and animals - to react in unpredictable ways. Something might scare him, and he might react to it by trying to defend himself. Do you understand what I’m trying to say?” 

Allison nods, still so very serious. “Yes. I won’t scare him. I promise.” 

Chris nods. “Okay.” He gives Ally a kiss on the forehead and she giggles, telling him he’s too scratchy. He chuckles and scratches her again, just to hear her light-hearted giggle again. 

“I love you, pumpkin,” Chris mutters into Allison’s hair and hugs her tight. “So, so much.” For a moment, he remembers Peter playing hide and seek with the pups on the full moon, remembers how he let them chew on his ears, and it hurts. It hurts to imagine the children in the burning basement, hurts to imagine Peter despairing while trying to save them, only to lose them all and stumble right into Kate’s hands. Kate. Chris involuntarily tightens his grip, until Ally squirms a little and he remembers where he is. 

“Goodnight, pumpkin,” Chris says, giving his daughter a last kiss and pulling the blanket up to her chin. “Sleep well.” 

“You too, Daddy,” Ally mutters and sounds really exhausted now. 

Chris gets up and prepares to leave the room, when Allison’s voice holds him back one last time. 

“Daddy?” 

“Yes, pumpkin?” 

“Mummy won’t come back, will she?” 

Chris’ throat tightens. “No, she won’t. I’m sorry, pumpkin.” 

“I really miss her,” Ally whispers. 

“I miss her too,” Chris says, and it is the truth. “But we can’t get her back. We can only remember now. Remember the good things.” 

“I want to dream about her,” Allison says, her voice getting smaller and smaller as sleep reaches for her. “I did. One time. Was my birthday …” 

Chris sighs. “Goodnight, baby,” he murmurs and leaves the room, closing the door. For a moment, he leans against it with his back, closing his eyes. So much loss. So much pain. He lost Vic and found Peter, but either way, it will hurt and burn. 

What a mess. 

Chris scratches the back of his head and goes to his own room, hoping he will find at least a few hours of restful sleep tonight. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter includes a brief scene of sexual content. If you don't wish to read it, simply stop at "No one is here,” Peter tells him in a voice smooth like silk..." and continue at "He loves this more than he should."

The night is starry. A sharp cold lays in the air and the grass is covered by a thin layer of frost that crunches under Chris’ boots. Reminders of the approaching winter. Chris exhales and his breath raises up in front of him like white fog. He shivers and grips the knife hidden under his jacket firmer. 

Chris’ senses are on high alert. Every rustle could mean danger. He crouches down to inspect the ground, loosening the earth with his fingers as he searches for a trail of the rogue Omega the hunters have been talking about. Apparently the beast has crossed three counties already. If Chris finds it first, he might finally please his father and get a few good night’s rests, instead of surprise lesson after surprise lesson. 

However, before he can check for anything suspicious, a shadow with glowing blue eyes jumps out of the undergrowth, ramming into Chris before he can pull out his knife. His breath is punched out of his chest and he falls backwards with a choked off gasp. 

A laugh resonates in the dark. It’s well familiar. Peter fucking Hale. Chris isn’t as surprised about the attack as he could be. 

They roll over the forest floor in a heap of flailing limbs. Chris ends up on his back with a grinning Peter over him, pinning his wrists to the ground firmly. His eyes are still glowing and his claws are extended, sending little, sharp pinpricks through Chris. “Well, well,” Peter says cheerfully. “What do we have here? A prowling hunter … All alone. Didn’t anyone tell you, you aren’t supposed to roam wolf territory at night all alone?”

“Let go,” Chris grunts and rolls his eyes. 

Peter tilts his head. “I don’t know if I want to,” he says slowly, his grin broadening. “You look good like this. Good enough to eat.” He licks his lips for emphasis.

Chris squirms in the wolf's grip. “This isn’t funny, Peter. You almost …”

“What? Did I give the big bad hunter an almost heart attack?” Peter taunts. He still doesn’t let go. Before Chris can say anything else, Peter leans forward and kisses him wildly enough to make their teeth clank together. 

First, Chris wants to turn away because he is still angry. But a wave of heat rushes through him and all too soon, he kisses Peter back just as wildly, feeling how Peter’s grip slowly weakens. Chris grins into the kiss and moves. He breaks loose and grips Peter’s arms, rolling them around until Peter is the one on his back, staring up at Chris with open delight in his eyes. 

Chris stares down at the wolf and hesitates, not sure what to do next. He is hard. So damn hard. The arousal is making him feel hot inside. A sharp contrast to the cold night air. And yet … If anyone catches them, they are - 

“No one is here,” Peter tells him in a voice smooth like silk, as if he read his mind, his claws tapping against Chris’ arm. “We are all alone.” And then the bastard tilts his head back, baring the length of his throat, knowing perfectly fine what it does to Chris to see him - a wolf - submitting like that. Chris makes a noise that sounds shockingly close to a growl. He bites into Peter’s neck, revelling in the ensuing gasp and groan vibrating against his lips. He bites until he tastes a hint of blood.

Peter smirks and hitches his hips up, making Chris feel his erection and when it rubs right against his own, Chris’ control finally crumbles. He pulls his and then Peter’s pants off impatiently - not caring about the fact that they are in the middle of a forest, that they are laying in leaves and dirt - spits into his hand since he has no supplies and reaches between them. He wraps his hand around both their cocks and strokes firmly, without any preamble. 

Peter’s back arches and he sighs in satisfaction as he grinds his hips into Chris', apparently not even feeling the cold under and around them. His eyes flutter close and his hand comes up to grip Chris' shoulder hard, claws digging into jacket and shirt underneath.

Chris tangles his free hand in Peter’s hair and pulls at it, making him tilt his head back again so he can mouth at Peter’s throat, so he can feel his every vibrating moan and gasp while he fastens his pace, the rough touch almost too much but also too little.

It is over way too fast. Soon Chris lays on his back in dirt and leaves, still panting and staring up at the stars while Peter lays on his side beside him, looking like a cat that got the cream, his claw painting something on Chris’ hipbone. Feels like a circle. His touch is featherlight, yet Chris can feel the soft scratch on his skin. 

Chris feels both satisfied and dirty.

He loves this more than he should. He loves _Peter_ more than he should. This has no future. 

Chris’ throat tightens when he thinks about what will happen if his father learns about this. 

“You think too much,” Peter tells him, arching a brow. 

Chris shrugs. “There’s a feral Omega prowling around in the preserve,” he says, running his hand through grass and earth. Thinking about his task is a good distraction from the pending fear.

Peter hums. “We could hunt it together,” he suggests, his claw stopping its path on Chris’ skin. 

Chris frowns. He is very much aware of what Peter is doing as the Left Hand of his pack. But so far, Peter has never really addressed it. Yet, it would be a clear advantage to have the senses of a wolf as backup. “I guess we could,” he says carefully. 

Peter’s claw continues moving, now painting something like a spiral. There is a long moment of silence. Somewhere in the forest, a tiny creature screams, undoubtedly caught in some fangs or between claws. The night is the stage of the predators. 

“Do you want to spend the next full moon with me?” Peter suddenly asks almost casually, his claw digging into Chris’ skin a bit harder. Sharper. 

Chris looks up at the wolf in surprise. “What?” he asks. 

“I want to introduce you to my sister,” Peter says, not looking at Chris. Instead, he is inspecting the claws of his other hand. 

Chris’ breath hitches. Spending the full moon together, being introduced to the Alpha … Something tugs painfully at Chris’ heart as he connects the signs to what he knows about werewolves. He has a suspicion. And something inside him loves the idea. Paints pretty pictures for a brighter future. But … It’s a future that can’t be his. 

Chris realizes he has stayed silent for too long. Peter has withdrawn his claw and now stares to the side into the forest instead, his eyes hard and his lips a thin grim line. 

_Why do I have to fuck everything up?_ Chris asks himself. He reaches out and puts a hand on Peter’s arm. Peter winces like he’s been burned. But he doesn’t make a move to get rid of the touch. “Peter … I really like what we have. But, you know it can’t last forever, don’t you? I am a hunter. An Argent. I have to follow the path my family has laid out for me. I don’t have a choice.”

Peter snorts and backs away. “You would have a choice, if you weren’t so scared,” he points out, gritting his teeth. 

Chris sighs and looks away, unable to meet Peter’s blazing eyes. “My father …”

“Your father is an abusive asshole. Just like mine. So what? We don’t have to stay. We could move away,” Peter tells him, jumping up and pacing, his eyes distant like he already sees a place for them somewhere else. “Show me Paris!” he barks, glaring at Chris. “You said you would like to. So do it!” 

“Peter … It’s not that easy. Nothing is,” Chris says, bitterness making his throat feeling tight. “I am not only scared for me. You know that. I don’t want you or your family to be in danger because of me.” 

Peter’s eyes flash. “I could kill him, you know?” he says and something dark creeps into his voice. “I could slash his throat. Problem solved.” 

“Just like I said. It’s not that easy,” Chris says mildly. 

Peter shakes his head, his control visibly slipping as his face falls. “What are you saying … Are you saying you don’t want to fight for this? What is this for you? What am _I_ for you? Just a pretty werewolf you get to fuck now and then?!” 

Chris doesn’t know what to say. There is a lot he would like to say. But he can’t. It feels like a stone is blocking his throat. 

Peter stares at him a moment longer and huffs. Finally, he turns around, turning his face away from Chris. “Fine,” he mumbles. “Do everything your asshole father wants you to do. Stay here and live a miserable life full of regrets. I’m not going to join you, you hear me? I’m not.” With that, Peter walks away, disappearing in the darkness. 

Chris looks after him for a long moment, clenching and unclenching his hands. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

He thinks back to what Peter said, about the full moon and Talia. He connects it to everything he knows about wolf behavior and wants to hit himself. It almost seems like Peter is - was? - attempting to show he wants Chris to be his mate. 

Fuck. 

Chris hides his face in his hands. 

* * *

Chris stares up at the ceiling, the dream a bitter echo that only helps to wake up every hint of guilt inside him. 

He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. 

God. This felt so real. They were so young back then. 

Peter didn’t leave Beacon Hills after all. He stayed just like Chris did for so long. Peter stayed long enough to burn. Long enough to burn, lose his family and be tortured by Kate. Fuck. 

Chris hates himself. He hates that he was too scared. He hates he missed every chance. He hates that he couldn’t say something else back then. To Peter, it really must have looked like Chris was using him. Like Chris was interested in occasional heated sex in the forest or in a dingy motel room. But … not in more. 

Chris starts to feel sick. He gets up and walks to the bathroom, splashing cold water into his face. He tells himself it’s not entirely his fault. Gerard showed him often enough what would happen if Chris disobeyed him. Chris has the scars to prove it. Physical and mental scars. He talked to Vic about it. She told her in her usual brisk tone that it’s not his fault. That he was a kid, a teenager. He isn’t to blame for his father’s abusive behaviour and what pain it caused. 

Still. It hurts him so much to think about how hopeful Peter was in that night. He must have thought he found a mate, must have thought he could escape his own parents who either ignored him or used his abilities for the pack’s sake. 

Chris tries not to drown in all the sadness, guilt and pain. He has things to do. He has to take care of Ally and the wolf in his guest room. He has to be in the present.

Ally is already awake. She is sitting at her desk in her pajamas, bent over a piece of paper. The tip of her tongue is barely visible between her lips and her brows are furrowed in concentration. 

“What are you doing, bee?” Chris asks, leaning against the doorframe. 

“I am drawing a picture for Mommy,” his daughter mumbles, not looking up from the paper.

Chris’ chest clenches. He enters the room and gives Ally a kiss on her head, throwing a glance at the painting. It is their house. A smiling sun above it. 

“Are you going to see the wolfie?” Allison asks, looking up at him curiously. 

Chris nods. “Yes.” 

“Can I see him too?” his daughter asks hopefully.  
  
“Maybe later, okay?” Chris says, attempting a smile. He remembers that he eventually has to tell Allison everything. Otherwise, she will be incredibly shocked when Peter turns back to human. _If_ , a voice in the back of his mind reminds him. _If he ever shifts back to human_. 

Allison smiles and turns back to her drawing. “Okay,” she says quietly and picks up a blue pencil to paint the sky. 

Chris swallows and leaves the room. 

He goes into the kitchen, preparing a few sandwiches. He shies away from putting a bowl in front of Peter like he’s a dog. A hopeful part of him thinks that maybe, he will find a human Peter on the bed. But the rational side is convinced he will still deal with an animal, so he fills a bowl with water and takes everything to the guest room. 

He opens the door gently but not too slow. “Peter?” he asks, looking into the room. “It’s me.” 

The bed is empty. The sheets are crumpled which is a sign that the wolf moved on them. Chris looks around and sees Peter in his wolf form, curled up in a corner, his head raised and ears laid back. 

Chris swallows. He is aware it must have been confusing for the wolf to wake up from being sedated, laying on a bed in a strange room. Complete change of surroundings and conditions. “I brought you something to drink and eat. You must be hungry,” he says, approaching the wolf with slow but firm steps. 

A growl vibrates in the room. 

The wolf bares his teeth, the fur at his neck bristling as he tries to move back farther, only to press against the wall. Just like the day before, it is a purely defensive behaviour. Chris takes a deep breath and sits on the floor, still keeping a lot of distance. He puts the plate with the sandwiches and the bowl with water on the ground and looks at Peter, avoiding direct eye contact. “It’s okay. I won’t hurt you. I want to help you.” 

He doesn’t even know if Peter can understand him. How much of the human is left in the wolf? Chris wishes he could tell. The only thing he can do, is to try to coax Peter’s human side out of its shell. He takes one of the sandwiches and takes a bite, chewing slowly. 

The wolf watches him. His growling doesn’t ebb away. It is a constant vibrating noise echoing in the room. 

Chris swallows and then slowly reaches out, to put the rest of the sandwich on the floor. Peter follows the movement with his eyes, ears perking up. 

“We did it like this, you remember?” Chris tells him, smiling at the memory. “I wanted to eat a granola bar. You were in your wolf form and you tilted your head to the side, making puppy eyes at me. I was so amazed how expressive your wolf was. I remembered that wolves share, so I took a bite and gave the bar to you. And you swallowed it whole.” He chuckles, although he kind of wants to cry. 

The constant growling stops. Peter looks from the sandwich at Chris and back. His ears twitch. Then, he gets up on shaky legs and carefully approaches the food, keeping his alert eyes on Chris. 

Chris holds his breath as the wolf extends his neck as far as possible and grabs the sandwich with his teeth, carrying it away until he can curl up in his corner and eat it. 

“You are still in there, huh,” Chris whispers. 

The wolf only stares at him, swallowing the rest of the food. Chris takes the next sandwich and repeats the gesture. Again, the wolf carries the sandwich away and eats it in the corner, never relaxing, never letting Chris out of sight. But he does eat. 

When the sandwiches are finished, Chris pushes the bowl of water into Peter’s direction and moves away to sit beside the bed. He watches as the wolf scrambles to get up and sway to the water, licking his nose. He practically inhales the water, eyes still on Chris the whole time. 

When he’s finished, the wolf walks backwards, slumping again. 

Chris is incredibly glad Peter did eat and drink. It is a sign of fight. A sign that the wolf isn’t broken. Not completely. 

He keeps watching the wolf who now lays his head on his paws, eyes heavy lidded. Memories float back to him. Memories from his dream and others. Way too many. All gone.

Chris winces when there is a careful knock on the door. He glances at Peter, but the wolf only stares at him, neither growling nor showing fangs. 

“So, when it’s my daughter, you are acting like a big puppy, huh?” Chris can’t help but tease a little. 

The wolf doesn’t react to it. 

Chris gets up and opens the door a bit. Ally looks up at him wide-eyed, then tries to glance past him, to catch a glimpse of the wolf. “Can I come in? I promise I’ll be silent,” she whispers, bouncing on her heels. Chris nods. “Come in, but don’t go to him and touch him, alright?” 

Ally nods and pads into the room behind him, her feet bare. Chris leads her to sit on the floor beside him so they wouldn’t tower above the wolf. Peter has his eyes on Allison, watching her every movement. 

“Hey, Peter,” Allison says brightly, waving. “I hope you are feeling better now.” 

The wolf huffs and slowly raises his head from his paws, sniffing the air. To Chris’ surprise, he slowly heaves his body up and approaches Allison, ears pointed at the girl. 

Chris’ first instinct is moving in front of his daughter, shielding her from the danger. But he forces himself to sit still and watch. Wolves talk with their body language. They don’t suddenly change their mind and do something different from what they are showing. Nothing about Peter indicates he wants to hurt Allison. 

Still, Chris tenses up, when Peter is close enough to reach Allison. “Sit still,” he tells her quietly and she nods, excitement and awe sparkling in her eyes. 

The wolf extends his neck until he can nose at Allison’s jaw and licks it carefully. Allison giggles and squirms, but she remains sitting. “Ew,” she says, wrinkling her nose. “Cold.” 

Peter rumbles and kitten-licks her jaw again before slowly laying down, pressed against Allison, presenting her the whole of his back. 

Allison looks at Chris questioningly. “Can I touch, Dad?” 

Chris nods and watches as she reaches out to run her finger through the wolf’s fur. He can’t talk. His throat feels too tight. It’s incredibly how gentle Peter is with Allison. Despite the years of loss, pain, torture and abuse, here he is, laying in front of a little girl and letting her pet him. But then, he remembers again, how fond Peter was of the children in the pack. When he talked about them, no matter how much he acted like he didn't care and called them ungrateful brats, his eyes always softened. It hurts him so much to imagine how it must have been, to lose them all. And he can't help but imagine himself in that situation. He would have lost his mind. He is sure of that. Seeing his little baby burn ... No. It's unimaginable.

Allison starts to smile while stroking the wolf, her hands tiny compared to the animal. Her fingers run gently over the too pronounced bones and the places where whole patches of fur are missing. Peter closes his eyes and goes slack, starting a constant rumbling noise that sounds close to a purr. 

“It’s okay,” Allison tells the wolf so quietly, Chris can barely hear it, although he sits beside her. “You are safe now. My Dad won’t let anything happen to you.” 

Chris’ stomach sinks and he has to keep himself from fleeing the room. If only that was true …


End file.
